Of Love and Distance


Of Love and Distance


I called you love,

an endearing term of surrender

to those moments we spent

wanting more of those dreams-

And that love now it seems

disappeared in an instance,

it was sweet and was tender

when we dared in our intent

to find solace in places

we so secretly guarded

across oceans and distance.

Now we let life become

and alone overcome

all the moments we built,

letting love dissipate

‘tween wanting and guilt

while we drift far apart-


June 2018

“You’re too far for my hands to hold you, but too near for my heart to love you.”

― Heraline


About Her Fire


About her fire


I miss the heat from her fire-

How it burned unrestrained in a heart

much inflamed by her love, oh how I miss

when her touch left a mark

on my skin which forever remains

and it rushed through my veins

reaching deep in my flesh-

And how I wish I could find

in the ashes that love left behind

if not flames from the fire

then forever her spark-


“Love, like fire, goes out without fuel.”

― Mikhail Lermontov

What’s Left Behind


What’s Left Behind


Your body a river

flowing smoothly through my mind,

on sleepless nights in the heat

of summer, evaporating streams

of wants I trace your shape in dreams

weaved in desires I can’t define

once awake-

And how do I keep you inside?

Once gone an empty space

retains the imprint

of far lost kisses, your gentle face

to haunt my days,

the empty space my nights-


“I felt her absence. it was like waking up one day with no teeth in your mouth. you wouldn’t need to run to the mirror to know they were gone”

― James Dashner, The Scorch Trials

Of sleepless nights


Of sleepless nights


You shared my bed, but what a stranger

to my ink on empty spaces

of what is left but scattered traces

of hidden kisses and fleeting love-

And death is same as to forget

my heart still beats

when does not skip for anyone,

is it the same to be alive?

If maybe then just to survive

I’ll sip my wine on sleepless nights

then walk around on empty streets

in search of you my dearest one-


“sometimes i don’t know, which moment

which cool gust of wind will come,

and enchant me

tousling my hair

and my heart,

stirring…that familiar ache of poetry,

which drop will kiss

the old wrench in my soul

reminding me, all over again

i miss you better in the rain.”


― Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Of Love Remains


Of Love Remains


Her substance lasted-

Somewhere inside

she shaped my being

and left a trace that most times hide

but burns at night in lucid dreams

of mangrove trees and salty waves

where in a niche from prying eyes

our legs entwined

in calming seas and became slaves

of fiery kisses and heated thighs-

She left a something under my skin,

a restless need to be again

inside her flesh, to be define

by sun and sand, somewhere within

she still remains in time defied

after her bones are bared and dry

and nothing left, she still remains

somewhere inside-



 “Desire is the kind of thing that

eats you


leaves you starving.”

― Nayyirah Waheed

I Remember


I Remember


“And what do you remember?”

I remember your lips soft yet frantic

searching for love and romance

eyes open at times I watched you dance

in my mouth with the trill of adventure

curling up on your tongue-

“Did you love me?”

Like the moon loves the sun

and the clouds love the sky to run free

all across like I did on your skin,

on the ridges and folds that I spun

with my hands on a spree

unrestrained to ride hard for a night

“But you left me alone”

To pursue ghostly dreams, yes I did

with the intent to return

and reclaim what was mine,

but how foolish I was, all I got

in your hands left behind

turned to dust… “You forgot?”

Never! I will always remember-


“Ten long trips around the sun since I last saw that smile, but only joy and thankfulness that on a tiny world in the vastness, for a couple of moments in the immensity of time, we were one.”

― Ann Druyan

Skin to Skin



Skin to Skin


There is something about skin to skin

that intoxicates and dull my senses,

the exquisite feel of sweat and oil

between the tightness of two bodies

that glide across with legs uncoil

in rubbing back and forth desires-

There is something that consumes my mind

her rounded back which makes me flushed

with lust and wants, and my body tenses

amid the moans when holding strong

skin to skin, my fingers rushed

between her thighs the pleasure find

and lost become where I belong,

skin to skin-


“There is a perfection in everything that cannot be owned.”

― Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus